


The suit

by hauntedpoem



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Be warned!, Denial, Emotional Abuse, Eonwe is a a puppy, I think it's a fandom thing..., Irrational Behavior, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mind Games, Personality Disorders, Power Suits, The city of valinor, They have dwarves there, Topping from the Bottom, Toxic Relationship, again cat pictures?, and cat pictures, angbang with a bang, bondage suit, codependent relationship, corporations & stuff, dangerous ways of the psyche, desperate Mairon, do people go around calling themselves bootoms and tops?, fetishes, gimp suits, hot conference footsies, imagine the whole American Psycho movie playing in the background of this, is that even a thing?, mairon is a doggy, mentions of Ungoliant the domme bitch, mindfuckery (I love this word), no i'm kidding, not a happy combo, office workers, psychopath! Melkor, psychopathy, use & abuse, what the fuck is this tag I hate this tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 09:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedpoem/pseuds/hauntedpoem
Summary: Melkor's choice of clothes should have been a red flag*I'm talking about that latex, bottomless BDSM suit*





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myaire21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myaire21/gifts).



> ...or how he screwed with Mairon's head and loved every minute of it.  
> -  
> In this one, Melkor is an abuser. He manipulates Mairon and there are plenty of paragraphs to see how that develops. he plays him like a fiddle and leaves him wasted, alone and in the end... emotionally unfulfilled.  
> The lesson is: bad boys hurt you, don't go there, have some self-respect!  
> -  
> this is for Myaire21, who has left many nice and encouraging comments on a series of mine :P  
> \- also, all mistakes are mine. If you notice anything wrong, such as a grammar - spelling error, please notify me.

It was 9 PM when Mairon finally reached his rented apartment in Hammersmith Valley, on the outskirts of Valinor. He exhaled a tired breath and fumbled within his messenger bag for his keys. He really needed to talk to the landlord about changing the light bulbs on this floor. They were either sabotaged by a misguided thief or they were very low quality. Mairon inclined to think the latter was the case. Dwarves in these areas were quite famous for being stingy.

In his right hand, he balanced the plastic bag of takeaway.

“There!” he gave a little victory shout and extracted the long key-chain that held beer bottle caps, his fidelity card at the local supermarket and his precious racoon plushy which was in dire need of a bath. He tried inserting it into the lock but for some stupid reason, Mairon kept missing.

“Oh, shoot!” he yelled in frustration, fishing out for his phone and his overused lantern app.

“Aulë’s hammer and Yavanna’s bush!” Mairon exclaimed, looking at the keyhole currently filled with drooly chewing gum. Yavanna’s protégées, the brood of the little hairy rats that lived on the first floor must have done that. No need complaining, he would kill or maim whoever did this. He swears he heard a barely contained giggle coming from around the corner.

“Little shits! Do this again and I’ll throw you in the melting pit!” Mairon spent a couple of minutes removing the offending gum from his key lock and finally stepped into the darkness of his apartment.

Mairon breathed in the stale, sad smell of the hallway and with practised ease he took his shoes off and made his way to the kitchen to put the frozen pizza in the microwave and get a spoon for the strawberry pudding. At exactly 11 PM, Mairon passed out in his bed with a technical book in his lap and the strident light of the desk lamp fixed on the faded words.

-

After a couple of hours of sleep, Mairon found himself in a sweat, the dregs of the nightmare still clinging to his skin. In the living room, the TV replaced the static with a re-run of The Bachelor and he watched in dumb fascination how the Númenórean show gained more and more ground among the dwellers of Valinor. There was a picture of the harem interrupting every other minute the drama and Mairon flipped through the channels hoping to find some episode of How it’s made or at least some cute kitty show on Animal Planet.

You see… Mairon Aulëndil really liked cats and he couldn’t wait to move to a place of his own and have as many as possible. Good, he thought to himself after checking his face in the mirror. He looked as fresh as a daisy. Copper blonde tresses, falling in lazy waves, golden caramel eyes, like most of Aulë’s maiar and a sprinkle of very cute and very discreet freckles- he looked cute, if he could say but most of the time his looks were wasted in the smithies, supervising the lesser workers and sometimes correcting their forging.

Today was going to be a very important day. Aulë wanted to brag a bit to some companies and had invited Manwë and Melkor’s corporate representatives in case they wanted to strike a deal in some sector. Mairon took his place in his office, looking over some construction blueprints when Curumo knocked on his door with the biggest grin he’s ever been capable of producing.

“Time to play, Mai! They’re here!” Curumo was this devious little maia with coal black hair and sparkling eyes, always looking to improve and engineer the most efficient machines. On their way, he took the coffee jug and signalled to Mairon to hand him his cup to pour him a generous amount.

“Black?”

“No. Milk and honey, please.” Curumo scrunched his face at him as if to say are you kidding me?. “You’ve a sweet tooth, right?” Mairon gave him a scorching look and pilfered some caramels from the employees’ cupboard.

“You have no idea, Curumo.” He replied caustically.

They entered the conference room in time for Aulë to give them a disappointed look but they exhaled in relief seeing that their guests haven’t come yet.

It bothered Mairon to no end. He was practically the second most indispensable person in the company yet Aulë never thought of giving him independence in business. All the other maiar practically ruled over some sector or branch. Take for example Curumo, who in Mairon’s opinion, was a lazy conceited asshole. Curumo was given free reign over the design of some pieces. Or Varnië (brown one), who had probably the least experience but was the chief of their delivery sector.

He went to Aulë and told him about his worries. He always wanted to prove himself, so he pushed, and pushed until he collapsed from exhaustion. All he wanted then was for Aulë to praise him. And Aulë did but that did not reflect in his paycheck or his job description.

Mairon got by just fine. He could look rich and make investments but instead, he chose to rent until the new residential area was finished for Oiolossë Hills and his investment was in knowledge. Books and classes and more training sessions.

It all downed to Aulë saying that he needed Mairon like this, for he was the steady horse that would always drag the heavy cart while the others could play with their imagination and spend absurd amounts of money on redecorating their offices.

Mairon gorged on chocolate and caramels and tried to understand the whole thing when it was… plainly absurd.

And Curumo’s bragging did not help with that. He was Mairon Aulëndil, he was chief of innovation… he had the brain and the power to move the company forward to be on par with Varda Space. But Aulë, who was like a father to him, did not allow him to spread his own wings. And Mairon wanted to do that badly. He was excellence, he had ideas, he had value, he was better than half of the maiar… then why?

He deserved to have that recognition!

Almost all of the maiar wore suits in black and grey and sometimes brown, all of them inconspicuous, practical types. Mairon was clad in a creamy pale suit, to him, black was reserved for special occasions only. Grey was too bland but the tan colours always complimented his radiant looks. Aulë always preferred dark blue suits and he managed to look like a professional wrestler barely contained in too tight shirts. Mairon’s eyes bulged when he saw them. Perfect – of course, they were valar and a high ranking maia.

There were four of them.

Manwë  Súlimo\- in extravagant white that made their eyes hurt, Melkor, his brother, in black,  and Nienna- in an exquisite silver grey suit that must have cost a small fortune. Eönwë, Manwë ’s nephew, a maia so gorgeous in a pale blue ensemble walked and sat right next to Mairon. Mairon could barely breathe. He’d been to office parties and Christmas dinners but he always refused those from other companies politely so he did not meet many new people. He honoured only Aulë and Yavanna’s invitations. Before this day, he had no idea that Manwë ’s maiar were so… dazzling. And however unprofessional that thought was, Mairon delighted in the company. That lasted until Melkor, the other CEO of Valinor Enterprises took the seat opposite to him.

Melkor of Valinor was perfection incarnate. He eclipsed everyone in the room with his energy, elegant and subtly dangerous.

Mairon broke into an uncomfortable sweat. He needed another caffeine fix and more sugar in his system if he was to stop himself from daydreaming right in the conference room.

Ondo (stone/ rock), a coworker of theirs opened the sliding doors, at last, bringing in a cart full of coffee, steaming water and tea bags, while right behind him, Marillë (pearl) pushed a steel trolley full of little pastries. Mairon eyed the chocolate glazed croissants but most of the time his eyes kept casting furtive glances towards Melkor, tall, dark and imposing and… of what he’s heard… a bit unbalanced. He didn’t have to try too hard because Melkor latched all his attention on him, eyes sending a heated stare towards him.

He was tall and too handsome to be legal. Dark hair fell in luscious waves over his shoulder. He wore this expensive tailored suit that showed the breadth of his shoulders and his trim physique. His long, soft looking hands with manicured nails skimmed over the reports but Mairon could tell that Melkor did not pay attention at all. What he seemed to do instead, was play a game with all of them, and especially with Mairon.

He got the confirmation for that when he felt a polished shoe settling between his legs and parting them assertively. Mairon complied only to gasp his surprise when the foot mounted up to his thigh. Next to him, Eönwë, with his pale blond hair, neatly cropped into a fashionable shoulder length style and his crystalline blue eyes, was taking notes and comparing annual reports. Manwë was engaged in what Aulë was saying but from time to time, his eyes landed on Melkor. Nienna sat at the opposite end of the table and drank cup after cup of tea, looking somewhat weepy.

A shoe near his groin. Yep, that’s what it was and in any other circumstance, Mairon would have been enraged and kicked the intruder… but this was new and fascinating. It was so, so forbiddingly arousing.

Mairon could not focus at all. He was one of the last people to leave the conference room but not after realising that a new business card lied in front of him, on the table. Melkor’s.

-

Mairon felt as if on pins and needles; he tried getting through to him but with no result. Melkor’s phone was disconnected. Strange enough, Eönwë must have placed his business card in his pocket when Mairon was too busy focusing on not coming right into his pants after the teasing movements he’d been subjected to via Melkor’s foot.

Since then, Eönwë kept calling their office and asking specifically for Mairon and whenever he answered the phone, he always ended up asking about Melkor.

Eönwë was always nice and friendly and Aulë ’s maia felt bad for stringing him along just to extract information about Melkor.

 The e-mail came after a couple of weeks since the meeting.

Melkor wrote that he wanted to consult him about work matters but Mairon wasn’t too sure about that. It also came as a surprise because not only did he wait for days for a sign just to prove it to himself that it wasn’t something that has happened in his head, but to also decide whether this was just some one-time game that should be locked up in the confines of his unconscious mind.

Of course, the maia was elated. Mairon was beaming whenever he received a text or a phone call. They all seemed innocent enough and Melkor did not fail to sound professional but somehow, to Mairon’s confusion, he never talked about their footsie during the conference and that disturbed Mairon beyond measure.

He was even more stressed out now that he was in constant communication with Melkor. It was mostly Melkor doing the talking and Mairon soaking it all up like a good puppy. Sometimes he would call Mairon in the middle of the night to tell him about some idea he had for a new project. He would keep talking for hours and Mairon was desperate and tolerant enough but soon, the effects became visible. He was dead tired and could barely focus on his work, enough that Aulë noticed and sent him home with a reprimand.

Mairon felt horrible. Lack of sleep made him cranky and snappy. To him, Melkor became his caffeine, the thing that he craved and needed to function, but at the same time, the thing that destroyed him from the inside out. But Mairon always shut that thought down. Instead of going back to sleep, he called Melkor and to his surprise, Melkor took his call, despite how incredibly busy he was.

Soon, he was to find that Melkor was also an incredibly good listener and that he could trust him… because when in Arda’s history did he ever bash his boss to the void? Well… he was pissed and frustrated and… sexually frustrated. It didn’t help that their mock counselling sessions via phone always left Mairon wanting more. That voice was sinful. Those promises were to kill for. And Mairon would do anything.

Anything!

-

The last straw came when Curumo had been promoted to senior whatever in the company and invited to dinner that very day. Mairon’s performance dropped, his appearance got more and more haggard and only the promises that Melkor made to see him in a short while kept him trying to look decent. It was no shame to keep foundation and concealer in his bag. It was no shame to tie his hair in a ponytail because it had become dry and frizzy. Or it had gone unwashed in over a week. Mairon could not remember… he’d been too busy doing something for Melkor and it was really… important and could not be postponed. Like gathering intel on his firm’s employees or the revenue or the investment percentages or the future projects or the blueprints for some new innovation. Because Melkor cared about all these things, you see?

And Melkor promised them a date when Mairon would be a good boy and get him all he wanted to know. Well, actually Melkor had called him a good doggy… but Mairon did not mind, oh no, not in the least!

He reverted to taking caffeine pills and if the necessity arose, he had a source that would give him amphetamines. He was going to get through with this. Oh yeah, because when he flew into a rage and trashed Curumo’s office and stapled cat-pics all over the walls, Aulë dismissed him and forbid him to ever come into the firm until he would see Irmo, the psychiatrist.

But Mairon was fine. Of course, he was. He had anything it took to bring Aulë and his company to their knees on a memory stick. Not incriminatory stuff, oh never, Aulë was too boring to deal with illegal things. But he had projects that would be worthy of millions and company secrets that he would gladly offer to Melkor because he was so nice and he cared. And Mairon was sick to go back to his lonely apartment and wait there with beer and nachos and bad reality TV shows. He was sick of being overlooked and he was sick of seeing Curumo getting promoted and Aulë so dismissive of him and his revolutionary work.

Because he had been in Melkor’s arms then, he kissed him on the mouth and left traces of his teeth and violence on his sensitive neck. He was darkness, all-encompassing, numbing, sweet darkness and Mairon must have collapsed in those arms and lost his memory because the next day he woke with a note. It read: _“Sleep in, sweetling. You were such a good boy last night.”_ It made him smile, despite how cheesy it was.

Despite not remembering a thing from last night, Mairon was glad. He was glad he had given all the information to Melkor. He was relieved. He _was_ a good boy.

Mairon was sick, according to Irmo. He needed to take some pills. But Mairon did not. Instead, he called Melkor some more and Melkor said: “Wait, I’m busy.”

So Mairon waited… like a good doggy. Then Eönwë called and his voice was desperate and he was sniffling and Mairon had absolutely no idea what to do to console him, plus, he couldn’t care less… his own head was a mess from last night.

-

He remembered flashes of it. Melkor opening the door to the luxurious hotel room for him, a bottle of expensive champagne in his hand, dragging him by his tie and invading his mouth with a hot, wet tongue that rubbed in the right places. Then Melkor shirtless, then Melkor telling him to wait.

Oh… yes… Mairon remembers. The suit. It wasn’t like any other suits but it fit Melkor perfectly.

“I’m going to show you what I like, Melkor said. “You’re not Ungoliant, but you’ll do.”

It was this latex, perfectly fitting gimp suits that Melkor wore. Melkor in a bondage suit… the maia never dreamed of that.

“Wow!” was all that the maia could say to that. Melkor was naughty and apparently, he wanted to play naughty games with him as well, It didn’t matter that Mairon did not sleep in days, he needed to stay up for that.

He asked Mairon to spank him. Harder. Faster. He could feel how hard Melkor was. He never imagined him submissive… but Melkor was anything but submissive. Even gagged and restricted in a custom made bondage suit that left his buttocks open to strokes and spanks, Melkor was as demanding as ever.

He barely remembered when he commanded him to unzip the bottom part of his suit and prepare himself. Mairon was aroused but he also was very confused. Prepare himself for what? He was not ready for _that_. He had barely time to grab the last documents and flee his office before leaving his resignation letter on Aulë’s desk when Melkor demanded him to be at the hotel. How uncomfortable he felt and he wished to do anything to satisfy Melkor whom he loved. Or at least he thought that, seeing how much he obsessed about the man. He would let him fuck his mouth until he gagged, no problem because Mairon wanted so bad to please.

But apparently Melkor talked about the other kind of preparation and it took Mairon by surprise when he felt his poor cock locked in the confines of Melkor’s heated passage. It screwed him in a vice grip. Melkor was very demanding and relentless. He fucked himself on Mairon’s penis and he gripped so hard with his latex clad fingers that the maia got the message immediately: “Don’t you dare and come before I do!”. Even gagged and blinded, Melkor still inspired obedience.

He didn’t but it took all he had to sustain the effort of Melkor wildly rutting into him like a hungry beast. It had been hot.  He came and it was as if all his strength had been squeezed out of him. He made the most unbelievable noises and Melkor only encouraged him. It would have been hotter if he didn’t lose his consciousness right after his orgasm.

-

So here he was, in the hotel bed, spent and wrung out like a dishrag. Somewhere, on the edges of his conscience, a single thought skirted, lost and forlorn. What was going to happen next? Mairon knew he could not go back. Not back to Aulë. He did not want to go back to his bland life before he met Melkor. He wanted that high. He needed it like a drug.

And what was wrong with Eönwë? Why did he hiccup and cry on the phone? What was going on with Manwë's company that got him so frantic? Mairon lazily took his time to roll in the bed, and then ordered some room service and in the meanwhile, he took a long, satisfying soak with relaxing bath salts.

Only after he was through with the omelette and the morning coffee, he turned on the TV on the news channel. Channel 1 and 2 were blasting the same terrible news accompanied by the same terrible music. Aulë's Forges ruined, Manwë and Valinor Corp split and overtaken... by none other than Melkor. Thousands left jobless and penniless.

He vomited his breakfast right into the pristine service towel. His head was pounding and his lungs didn’t have enough air. The world was sinking around him and he had no idea what to do.

Insistently, his phone buzzed. It was Eönwë.

~end~

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> so... this is not a happy fic. Angbang is not happy. It is not fluffy. One has to always suffer (Mairon usually- why, ppl, why?), and I chose that this Mairon needs to wake up, even if it means vomiting all his breakfast. Poor thing...  
> There are some Eonwe/Mairon vibes but our fiery maia still has some way to go and realise he's been played with (like a good doggy).  
> POOOOR THING!!!!! ;(((((((  
> Also... Melkor is very domineering, disturbing besides being charming... Plus, he is an accomplished manipulator because his victims never realize they've been used until it's too late. (like with Edward and Bella- which I've never read- to my utter shame- but the echoes of that abomination blasted all over the internet).  
> There are some hints of a previous BDSM arrangement between him and Ungoliant. Very 50 shades, if you ask me... therefore... very fucked up, man needs to be put into a straightjacket (let's call it Angainor?). I only watched the first movie but I cannot wait for someone to do a hilarious (parody version?!) of the books. I WILL SPEND MY MONEY ON THAT.  
> Abuse, be it mental, psychological, emotional, spiritual or financial- is bad, people! There's no need to sugarcoat it. it is an issue and it gets fed to us through stupid romance movies and books and FICS. :D
> 
> Gimp suits are BDSM suits. I had to google the shit out of that, just so you know, I do my research :P  
> and no, I will not clear my history.


End file.
